Growing older
by Lakeore
Summary: Reminiscent of the growing older and the days gone by


They were getting older but none the less, life moved on. John had always been older than Sherlock but it had never made a difference. They worked together, clicked, found each others weaknesses and boosted off the others strengths. That was how life worked, that was how relationships lasted. That was how they lasted together all this time. Understanding. It was how life worked, that give and take, push and pull, ebbing and flowing in a spiral expanse that led to places you can t define until you are there.

However old they got, no matter what, some things stayed the same. They were always together, that duo. Never separated, never parted. Excitement might have long since passed in the lives of others but for John Hamish Watson and Sherlock Holmes, each day seemed like something new for them both to explore. Life can be hectic, chaos and trouble all around them, but the two never saw it that way. They laughed in the face of danger, battled valiant foes and conquered the world one case at a time.  
Time flew by in 221B Baker street over the years. Cases never slowed for there was always someone who needed the advice of the doctor and the detective. John had long ago stepped away from his job as a surgeon, becoming fully available to work side by side with Sherlock whenever they had cases. He had done so out of both the love for the man, the love for the case, and the fact that he could help the world better this way.

A eight years ago, someone had suggested that the two be married. In fact, it was only a couple months after Sherlock had reappeared to the world as being alive once more. Only a couple months since John had managed to forgive the man for breaking his heart. A couple months since Sherlock had reentered John s life and swept it away in a storm of emotions that he would never hope to fully grasp even looking back at it now. John had been desperate when the detective first appeared again. Desperate and honestly, he thought he had been going insane. He thought it a dream, simply fiction turned into illusion by the want and need to have his friend back. His more than a friend, back.

But Sherlock had been more than real. He had been cold but soft flesh under John s fingers, a compliant willing embrace for when tears would appear in the soldier s eyes. No illusion could bring forth that humorous smirk of a smile that John loved more than life itself. No imagination could produce the vivid twinkle in the detectives worn and weary face as he finally returned home. Sherlock had been real, had been truly there, and every possibility that John had given up to dead had rekindled into a flame that burned brighter than ever.

Marriage had been a suggestion that though said in a light humor, was suddenly taken very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that it was put into action three month later on an chapel by the coast. Sherlock had taken his good sweet time in asking but it had been worth the weight. John had wanted it quick simply to have them go to the courthouse and get things settled. It wasn t how things turned out however. It was to be a real wedding. Sherlock had insisted.

The decorations had been beautiful really. The entire event had been. Most of it had been planned for them, neither Sherlock or John taking much time to put thought into the details of the wedding. Mycroft had actually approved, sending a gift of a new set of kitchen utensils to replace the ones that had accidentally been chucked out window though John was certain it had been from when Sherlock had gotten into a phase of acting like a ninja and tossing the forks around.

Despite what everyone thought, the detective was not just a statue. He was more odd than most anyone would ever know.

Either way, the wedding itself had touched Sherlock more than either of them would have realized. People had gathered from everywhere, all corners of London, England, and the surrounding European countries to watch the wedding of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock hadn t realized how many lived he had touched, how many people who he had helped save and just how many were grateful to him. John could say. honestly and truly say that he had never seen Sherlock cry before that moment, or since, but there had been tears in the detectives eyes none the less.

It was out of character but the sight itself only made the doctor fall more in love with Sherlock than ever before.

Mrs. Hudson had cried but really, there were many there who had cried. Molly being one of them, Mary being another. Yes, yes, Mary. Mary had been John s lifeline through the times where Sherlock was gone. She had been a rock in the storm, something to keep him tethered to earth. Even when Sherlock came back and stole John away, Mary had been there to help John through the transition. She was neither bitter nor agree it was like she had always known that she was to be the best friend. In the end, she was. She really and truly was the closest friend John ever had. Other than Sherlock. That much is given. On the girl s arm had been her date. Yes, Mary had had a date to the wedding. Things were going good for the her, she was happy. Even Sherlock approved of the man. That was saying quite a bit for considering well considering Sherlock.

Lestrade had been a best-man. He was and is still quite proud of that fact. He had done well, doing everything right. Somehow, the only person either John or Sherlock could have imagined for that spot was Lestrade. He had been there for the both of them through everything and had still come out a good guy. He wasn t driven away by the madness that was contained on Baker Street. He even embraced it on occasions.

The crowd had even fit into the chapel, resulting in overflow and people watching through live streamed cameras from outside. Hundred of people, all gathered to see two men become joined together. Hundreds of people that had been touched by Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Lives that were saved, families that were given hope and It had been quick and then it was over but neither of them had forgotten it.

Because each morning John and Sherlock would wake up beside each other and know that reality was exactly what it seemed to be. This was not a dream. It wasn t a figment of their imaginations swirling at the edge of their conscious. The person under their fingertips was truly there as they greeted the morning together, celebrated the day and embraced the life together that they would always know.


End file.
